


Glain's Monday

by blessedharlot



Series: Glain: A Week in the Life [1]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Aro Ace Glain Wathen, Canon Asexual Character, Fluff, Gen, Glain Has Hobbies, No Romance, No Sex, Post-Canon, day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedharlot/pseuds/blessedharlot
Summary: Glain is a badass, and finds both public and not-so-public successes.
Relationships: Jess Brightwell & Glain Wathen, Niccolo Santi & Glain Wathen
Series: Glain: A Week in the Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608322
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Glain's Monday

Glain rested her head against her arms, and leaned just so against the shower wall, to let the hot water cascade down the entire expanse of her back. 

A simple forty-eight hours in the field - and on a secure training exercise, at that - had made her more tense than it strictly should have. But then, most training exercises didn’t have a year’s worth of bragging rights behind them. 

Now that she and her company had earned those rights, it was time to relax.

Glain said a prayer of thanks for the water pressure in the High Garda barracks, and let the water beat the tension out of her stiff back muscles. She never minded much where she slept, what she ate, or what she wore. But a good hot shower was a religious experience not to be taken for granted. She let the water drip down her neck at the angle that gave her the most goose bumps, and took deep, easy breaths that made her whole body feel light and liquid.

When she was ready to move again, she ran her fingers through her hair and used what passed for standard soap supplies as shampoo. The new cut didn’t need much care at all, and stayed out of her way, while still looking sleek and sharp… which was exactly her style. Glain was surely in love with the new electric style of hairclippers that had provided her this cut. She would have to discover where her roommate Alice got hers. 

Glain wondered absentmindedly how one might use the new clipper style as a weapon. Then she reached for the washrag and reluctantly got closer to completing her shower.

  
  
  


Two hours wasn’t a long enough window to get any real rest, not when she was this keyed up. And besides, she wanted to reach the banquet hall early to greet her company as they arrived at the celebratory luncheon -- the official conclusion to Spring Maneuvers. So Glain finished some necessary paperwork on the Maneuvers, and wrote a bit in her journal. Then she donned her dress uniform. What dress uniforms compromised in utility and ease of care, they made up for in precision, and a damn crisp look. There was nothing like the clean, fresh start of everything in its place.

The sky today was the exact kind of brilliant blue that Glain didn’t mind basking in, if she had nothing else to do. So she walked the distance to the Serapeum. It turned out her choice was a predictable one, and about halfway there, she was intercepted by three figures waiting for her in the shade of a nearby copse of trees. 

One of them was Lord Commander Santi, looking sharp in his own dress uniform… who she had fully expected to see making only a rushed appearance at the banquet, not wasting his time anticipating her travel schedule. With him was Scholar Wolfe, robe billowing in the breeze, who she hadn’t expected to see at all today. The third person with them was Jess, who Glain could have sworn was currently in China.

Glain closed the distance between them as Nic laid eyes on her, and Glain quickly gave up on not blushing.

"Best Maneuvers showing in decades, right there in front of us!” Nic beamed, using Wolfe and Jess as an only minimally willing audience for his bragging.

“From Wathen, you say? I never would have guessed,” Wolfe said with a light in his eye.

“Expert marksman, iron will, and now a proven masterful leader of others,” Nic continued. As Glain pulled even with them, Santi ending with a shoulder clap that could have shaken Thomas.

“Don’t be so vague in your assessment, Lord Commander, let us know what you really think,” Jess teased.

“While I’m glad for the company,” Glain said, “I am wondering why you two especially don’t have something better to do right now.”

“Don’t be absurd, Wathen," Wolfe said. "I wanted to see commendations heaped upon you. You deserve them.”

“Well, thank you, sir.”

“Additionally, I have a favor to discuss with you later,” Wolfe continued.

“Of course, sir,” Glain replied, as they all began walking toward the Serapeum. “And you, Brightwell? I thought you were in Beijing.”

“I was,” Jess nodded, “but I wanted to see your piles of honors as well.” 

“Mhm.”

“Alongside some minor business in town,” Jess continued.

“I feel so special,” Glain said.

“As well you should,” Jess replied. He then patted a pocket and spoke conspiratorially. “I have afternoon tickets to one of your five favorite ways to watch people choke, Glain. There's a catch wrestling show at the little arena. I expected I could talk you into going with me after this.”

Wolfe managed an impressive look of disdain over his shoulder without breaking his stride. Catch wrestling was undoubtedly a far cry from Wolfe’s preferred athletics, but Glain didn’t care. She loved the lengths it went to to draw blood and entertain a crowd.

She took a tone of mock deliberation. “I suppose that’s something I could clear my afternoon for, yes.”

“Excellent!” Jess said.

“Enjoy your waste of time,” Wolfe said.

“Scholar, there’s a great deal of skill involved in catch wrestling,” Glain countered.

“Enjoy your lost cause, Glain,” Nic laughed. “I didn’t know you shared the interest, Jess.”

“Oh, I haven’t been to a match since Brendan dragged me to them as a kid,” Jess said. “An artist that will be showing in our gallery next month gave me the tickets, and I didn’t want to waste them.”

“How did the artist come by tickets to carnival wrestling?” Wolfe asked.

“She’s in one of the matches,” Jess said. Then he threw a tiny glance at Glain, and turned toward Nic and Wolfe. “Speaking of business, what did you two think of that novel I gave you?" he asked.

"Exceedingly frivolous," Wolfe replied.

"Of course it is," Jess said, "But was it fun?"

"Is the purpose of a novel to be ‘fun’ now?" Wolfe countered.

"This genre is for fun, yes, Scholar," Jess said.

"And this is why you became a publisher?” Wolfe said. “To use perfectly good paper on stories that barely merit a first read, much less a second?"

"Don't listen to him," Nic said, "he hasn't actually read it.”

Wolfe glared and began to interrupt him.

“I did read it,” Nic continued emphatically, “and I enjoyed it. Far cleverer than I expected. I very nearly didn't solve the mystery before it was revealed."

Jess smiled. "Wonderful!"

"If that author does anything else, please send it my way. I'm sure I'd enjoy that too."

Jess nodded and grinned. "Consider it a standing order, Lord Commander."

Glain shook her head in amusement as they approached the Serapeum. It lifted her spirits to hear these particular three people grouse and bicker around her.

“Alright, then,” Nic said, matching pace with her and throwing an arm around her. “Let’s get you properly lauded.”

  
  


\-----

  
  


The arena sent roaring shudders through Glain as they crossed the threshold. Soon enough Glain could see why -- a brutal fight between old rivals was playing out in the ring. The spectators sang with bloodthirst in every direction, cheering on the wrestler playing the hero today, and booing the current villain. It was a crowd pleaser of a match. Who didn’t love a good trouncing of a villain?

Glain knew of both wrestlers, and she knew their styles. They were punching, kicking and throwing each other as hard as they could. It was a rough way to earn a living, not dissimilar to her own. She’d never tolerate the preening and playacting herself, she didn’t have the temperament. But she respected the work they all put into their feats of strength.

They found some seats, and Glain immediately began scanning the stands for a beer vendor.

"Oh, by the way…" Jess reached into his pocket. "Here’s your first royalty check."

Glain reached for it perfunctorily, then saw the amount. And her mouth fell open.

"Wow,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting half that for the whole of the printing."

"Mysteries sell, my friend. Everyone’s favorite these days. So you heard Nic, when can I expect another?"

"Jess. What makes you think I have any plans for another?"

"You have to write more for me, Glain. You’re too talented. That book was gold."

"That book was a lark. I wanted to see if I could do it, is all. That’s it. More would be a waste of time."

"Yes, yes. A poor use of paper. Thank you, Scholar Wolfe."

Glain was already planning a second book. And possibly a third. She wouldn’t tell Jess that though. Not yet.

"Uh-huh," she said. "And what’s your cut of this?"

Jess shook his head. “Didn’t keep any of your money.”

“Jess. You give away too much. You can’t turn a profit that way.”

“There’s enough profit to be had, from those that can pay. I don’t need much anyway. Just enough to cover most expenses.”

“Surely you’re not giving this much to all your authors.”

“Close to it, though you get the family rate. Glain, there’s got to be something you’d spend your money on. Weapons? Boots? Punching bags? You must let me talk you into handing me more novels.”

“Why on earth are people spending this much money on simple mystery novels?”

Jess shrugged. "Might be about the bad guy getting caught, getting punished, like in the ring right now. Personally, I think readers like testing their wits against the author. My theory is, everyone wants to live vicariously through the Library revolution. People want to know if they could have outwitted the bad guys and survived."

"But there’s no mention of who I actually am."

"No, not at all. Unless someone has reason to suspect, and decides your pen name is a bit on the nose. So what will you do, Lt. Wathen, once you make captain and your pen name’s initials are still L.T.?"

"I’m thinking Letitia Thomas Watson will then reveal her true name, and start writing under that. Which will be… Capreza Waits. Possibly."

Jess smiled. And a strange thought popped into Glain’s head.

“I’m the only family member you’ve got writing for you under a pseudonym, right?”

Jess flashed a Brendan smile. “Of course you are.”

“Uh-huh,” Glain said, suddenly suspicious.

Just then, the crowd around them erupted into shouts as the hero in the ring vanquished his foe. Glain stomped her feet and clapped her hands along with everyone else, the soft, silly delight of a vicarious victory buzzing through every chest. 

"So." Jess said, as the cheers died down, and another character began orating in the ring. "Three months? Four?”

"For what?"

"Just for the first draft, I know that last editor got under your skin but I’ve got somebody else I think you’d really like."

"Jess."

"Is that a rush? Don’t rush it. If you need six months, take it. I’ve got no concept of what these things require."

"Jess!"

"Glain. If you won't do it for you, or for me, or for your sad bored Lord Commander who needs ways to spice up his life, then help my other mystery writers pay their bills. I’ve put you and four others in a series, matched cover styles. That way, if any reader enjoys one of them, they’re likely to buy some of the others. I’m pretty sure you’re driving 70% of the sales on the whole set at this point."

"Sure, I am."

"Your numbers are the highest, by far."

"You think I’ll believe your idle flattery?"

"I’d never lie to family about business, Glain. C’mon. Using the automaton to grind down the murder weapon? It was brilliant. Was the protagonist modeled after me? You can tell the truth."

"He was not, and that’s the truth."

Just then, Glain zeroed in on the beer vendor and caught his attention, buying them both a significantly sized drink. Jess was silent, until they had their beverages.

“And when you make Curia,” he continued, “May I suggest… Lorna Commodora Wiggins as your surprise reveal of your real, real name."

Glain rolled her eyes. "I’ll keep that in mind, thank you."

They tapped their glasses together in a toast, and Glain enjoyed the cool slick in her throat as the next wrestlers entered the ring.

**Author's Note:**

> Tomorrow: a favor for Wolfe!


End file.
